The Endless Secret
by Butcherkid
Summary: Harry lost many things within the concluding battle against evil. When life simply had no purpose left, someone throws a bit of mystery and fantasy within his deadened existence.
1. Seeing is Believing?

The Endless Secret

By Butcherkid

Chapter One: Seeing is believing?

The midnight sky looked like it had opened up completely, revealing the heavens as the planets and stars visibly shined. The night in itself seemed so perfect. It seemed to be glowing with a brilliance that could be seen clearly through all eyes.

_Except one pair._

Those emerald green eyes looked pained and defeated. Their owner remained deep in thought, trying to hold back the emotions creeping up slowly.

Everything had been perfect before, regardless of the trials and tribulations that were always present. The past held something, _or better yet_, someone that was precious.

The past also contained the bloodiest war of wizarding history. The war was where this certain young man triumphed over the darkest wizard of the age. This war caused families to separate and lose members because of the ongoing efforts to prevail. It contained injury, failures, and true identities that were revealed. So many aspects of tragedy all rolled into one package that spanned over five years after Voldemort's 'rebirth'.

But all of that seemed insignificant. Everything remained meaningless.

Everything except the concluding battle.

It was that final battle that caused the Boy-Who-Lived to lose everything he needed. His struggles were worthless, even though he had defeated Voldemort. Even though he had freed all wizards and witches from that monster, he had lost the one person he had held dear.

_Hermione_.

Reliving her death was most painful, especially since she had sacrificed herself protecting him. He cursed himself for ever letting her step foot on that battlefield.

But of course, Hermione was her own person. She would have gone no matter how much reprimanding Harry could have given her.

He smirked, thinking about what she would have probably said. _"Harry, I'm going no matter what. I've been through everything with you and this last battle will be no different. After all, who was the most intelligent student in our year?"_ He managed to create the scene in his mind, seeing Hermione vividly.

She would have stood before him, her arms folded across her chest. Her feisty brown eyes would be ablaze in both apprehension and anger. The hair she used to loathe would have been pulled back away from her beautifully stunning face.

"But why think of what ifs, they don't matter." Harry muttered sadly, pushing the thoughts of the falsified scene from his mind.

Snapping back to reality, Harry glanced around his flat. Everything seemed so empty within rooms, as if there wasn't any soul within the walls. It seemed dreary and lifeless, to state the obvious.

But he didn't care about love.

His true love had died, protecting him and fighting for a cause she had deeply believed in. For that, he would always consider her brave.

Getting up from his bed, he limped over to his bedroom window. His right leg had been mangled in the war, never truly healing correctly. It often pained him, but he never revealed that weakness.

Night was quickly disappearing and a new day would be forming fairly soon. Another chance at life would be presented, but Harry wouldn't grab it. He lingered within his depression, not willing himself to live without her.

Everyone had tried to pull Harry out, but he refused to be helped. He couldn't get over the emotional barrier that had been placed around his heart. His friends and former professors often found themselves at Harry's doorstep, hoping to finally break through his well-built interior.

The cause seemed hopeless.

No one would ever break through those walls. Harry Potter would forever continue on deadened, without a care for anyone.

Including himself.

Sighing deeply, he walked away from the window, not able to watch the sunrise. The sun rising meant nothing, only another day to sustain his loneliness. Another day without_ her_.

Harry glanced at the clock that resided on his bedside table. Seven o'clock and he still hadn't found sleep, but that wasn't completely surprising, he rarely slept anymore. He stepped out into his living room; he expected Ron would be arriving shortly.

Ron always visited him in the early morning, for reasons unknown to Harry. He hated being around all other people, expect Ron. There was something about his red-headed best friend that made the hours go by quicker. Spending time with Ron, more often than not, helped the green-eyed man forget his own exhausting thoughts. Every morning, the youngest Weasley son would talk about his job at the Ministry, his large Weasley family, and other random things he figured that would cheer Harry up.

When gentle rapping came at seven-thirty, Harry figured Ron would be waiting on the other side of his front door. However, a letter was laid carefully on his doormat. The envelope looked tattered and disheveled, but Harry shrugged and picked up the envelope. Closing his front door behind him, he strolled over to the couch.

Opening the letter, we briefly wondered why the person, who left the letter, didn't stick around and personally deliver it to him.

Sighing, he started reading the letter. It was typed, which made him believe the person wanted to forever remain anonymous.

_Dear Harry,_

_Sometimes, seeing is believing. Other times, our eyes fail us completely. You're the only person I've ever known that used to believe with their heart and not their eyes. However, it now seems you've lost that ability. Your beloved died before your eyes. Right? They never found her body after you went completely crazy on that Death Eater. Right? Maybe there are many reasons. Maybe, there's just one. Everything within this letter is for your thoughts. Your sleepless nights concern me because I know the truth. I know everything. I know she's not dead._

AN: Please review. Tell what you think. :)


	2. Just Stop!

The Endless Secret

By Butcherkid

Chapter Two: Just Stop!

Harry stared at the letter in disbelief. The disbelief abruptly turned into undeniable frustration. Tearing it into diminutive pieces, he threw the letter into his fireplace. As the young man had learned years ago, life was unpleasant, as were the people in it. Why would anyone torture his soul to that atrocious extent? He had never been anything except pleasant to _most _wizards and witches he had ever came in contact with.

Everyone knew Hermione meant the world, the stars, and the heavens to him. But someone evidently didn't care about his suffering. Some anonymous coward who wouldn't face him.

Feeling an enormous amount of annoyance, Harry moved toward his liquor cabinet and grabbed a glass of Firewhiskey. In no way was Harry Potter an alcoholic, he just had some around to unwind occasionally. That morning was one of those occasions.

Settling down upon the couch, he slowly sipped the intoxicating liquid. When another knock came to his front door, Harry didn't bother moving. If it was Ron, he'd let himself in.

"Harry?" The former Gryffindor was surprised to hear a feminine voice. Ginny Weasley strolled into the room, looking flustered. "Didn't you hear me knocking?" Her face lightened up slightly seeing Harry sitting in the couch.

"My previous visitor decided to leave before I answered. I figured if someone really needed to see me, they'd have enough common sense to simply enter." Harry's low tolerance to alcohol was already evident, even with the few sips of Firewhiskey.

Harry noticed the hesitation in Ginny's eyes. She knew he'd never tell her anything. Ginny despised this, but couldn't break Harry away from this "stage" as everyone called it.

"Mum wanted me to invite you to dinner. She says you're becoming too skinny."

Harry sighed, "Thanks, but no thanks."

Ginny gave him a look of exasperation. "Stop doing this! You're not the only one that cared about her. Stop shunning everyone out because you're not the only one. Hundreds of people perished, Harry. Hermione wasn't the only person to die."

Harry bore an evil glance into Ginny's eyes. "You're acting like Hermione can easily be forgotten. She was an important piece of our efforts. When Remus was captured by the Death Eater werewolves, she helped discover his location and helped with his injuries. When Ron got injured, Hermione took his place, beside me, on the front lines. When—" He stopped abruptly, staring at her deeply. "When she found us fooling around, she forgave us both. Hermione was always there, no matter what happened. I'll never forget her and I won't live until I'm dead, as she is." The last sentence panged in his stomach. The words of the letter reverberated into his mind. _'I know she's not dead.'_

"You're acting ridiculous! You've fought for freedom since Voldemort's first fall. You've always been buried underneath the title, 'The Boy Who Lived'. Now, that you're able to live normally, you're going to give everything up because you lost someone you cared about. You've lost plenty of people before her, and you've seemed to forgotten that. Stop living in the past and stop pretending! Hermione's gone, we both understand that! But that doesn't give you permission to be an idiotic fool and quit living your life." The two stared daggers at each other. It was several minutes before either uttered an audible breath, let alone, speak.

Ginny sat down next to him, "All I'm trying to say is everyone cares about you, Harry. We hate seeing you constantly living with the mistakes of the war and living in constant pain. You act as if no one else cares about you. My family members have always considered you as another sibling and son, and it'll always remain like that. Stop shutting us out. Stop shutting me out. Just promise to think everything out before closing everyone out completely."

Harry sighed deeply, "You'll never understand it. I feel completely responsible for Hermione's death. I always will. I could've prevented her from going. I could've told her more warnings and precautions." He rambled on endlessly, unable to control the words flowing from his mouth. "Trying to continuously tell myself it isn't my fault, doesn't help."

"I have to get going, but really consider coming over tonight. You need someone to talk to, even if you don't want to admit that." Ginny walked out of the living room and then out the door. Harry cursed; he hated having anyone see him weakened. Especially Ginny for reasons he hadn't admitted since _that_ night.

As much as it pained Harry to remember the night he cheated on Hermione; he'd never be able to completely void that thought from his mind or soul.

It had been four weeks before her death and the end of the war. Harry and Ginny had been drunk beyond belief, for reasons still unknown to everyone, including the two parties involved. Considering that Order Members were all living together at a different location than the one at Grimmauld Place, it was easy to explain why Harry and Ginny had encountered each other.

Harry and Ginny had been sitting on Ginny's bed, talking about things that Harry could barely remember. He remembering talking about Quidditch, Fred and George's joke shop, and having families of their own one day. And without warning, Harry had leaned in and planted a kiss on Ginny's lips. She didn't protest, but instead, threw him down on her bed and got on top of him. They kissed passionately, deepening it with a fierce tongue-dueling session. Harry had torn off Ginny's shirt, massaging her full breasts. They would have gone all the way, if Hermione hadn't walked in.

The intoxication had disappeared at that moment. Hermione's ear-piercing shriek and disheartening look upon her face had destroyed Harry's soul. He couldn't believe that he could ever wound anyone as much as he did that moment.

One week later, Hermione and Harry were a couple again. Hermione had forgiven both Harry and Ginny after they had explained their stories hundreds of times.

And when Hermione had died, that event had only deepened the grieving process. He had cheated on her with her best friend, only a few weeks before she died. It made him feel horrible. He didn't think anyone could feel so terrible about anything.

Shuddering, Harry thought about the dinner at the Weasleys'. The black-haired man didn't want to feel obligated to make an appearance at the Weasley household, but the things Ginny had uttered with the utmost passion, had slightly deterred his mindset. His biggest problem was he didn't want to care about anything anymore. He found emotions silly and childish.

_However, that letter had invoked many._

The possibility of Hermione being alive made Harry feel slightly alive as well. Being able to see her, touch her, love her almost seemed too much.

Harry moved into his bedroom and laid down upon the mattress. He would try to get some sleep before going over to the Weasleys' house.

A/N: Here's the next installment of this story. Thanks to everyone that has read it and who reviewed! I appreciate the feedback.

Next chapter shall come out when it gets finished. It's about Harry going to the Weasleys' and what happens after that affair.

Please review!


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